


The velvet rope is torn.

by tenderfirstlove



Series: Modern AUs & misc. [7]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, BAMF Byleth Eisner, Blood and Violence, Branding, Consensual Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, Healing, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Imprisonment, M/M, Marriage Contracts, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Power Bottom My Unit | Byleth, Selectively Mute My Unit | Byleth, Tattoos, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:21:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24803821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenderfirstlove/pseuds/tenderfirstlove
Summary: You're at the bottom of your life now, so you want to grieve, right?
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Jeralt Reus Eisner, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Modern AUs & misc. [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1642069
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	The velvet rope is torn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw if you havent read the tags: non consensual/forced drug use, emotional/psychological abuse/gas lighting, non consensual sex/group sex [all glossed over and not went into in detail.]

He had no clue what he did wrong as he stared down at the limp and ragged body of his mother with wide eyes and a stiff expression, ears still ringing from the gun shot in his head. Before he could even think of crouching down and grieving her, he felt a cold hand creep onto his forearm, his face was pushed into the concrete with a forceful huff out of his nose as he felt the embrace of tight and uncomfortable handcuffs digging into his skin.

With gentle fingers in his longish hair turned violent into a pulling, he was turned to the man who shot his mother as he was on his knees, blank face being met by a smirk on the older man's face. There were a pair of fingers that uncomfortably squeezed at his flush cheeks, now caked his blood as the skin rubbed off onto the concrete from earlier.

"You'll do just fine. Alone and pure. I will make you mine yet, submitting to my every word."

Byleth was only silent at the thought, emotionless eyes never leaving the other man's. Despite their lack of emotion, they were full of phrases Byleth wished to say.

_I loathe you._

_I want to tear your guts out and skin you, flay you like a fly, pin your arms like my mother used to pin the wings of butterflies._

_I want to tie you up so tight you cant be unwound, limbs entangled in a coil and knot so close your organs will beg for space and receive none._

_You are a despicable man._

✸

Byleth stared out the barred window, watching people come and leave of the building he became a part of. Half the time he stared outside, barely eating the drugged food that was brought to him and the other times he was called to Indech himself for 'training' as he called it. The only reason he got any pleasure from those sessions is because the man made sure he ate, and if not he'd just force the aphrodisiacs and opioids down his throat anyway, leave his flesh weak and malleable but the mind strong and aware for the most part.

There were no swords or guards, no puzzles nor content to be memorised. There was only a bed surrounded by men who watched him be taken for hours, and some even allowed to take his body themselves. At the end of these sessions everything would be the same. 

He would want to cry and shrink up, curl into a ball so tight he could not be unwound. 

There would always be a stray hand that was just on his lower back, just at the right space to unnerve Byleth no matter his actual training from his father, body denying the man at every turn as he was told to remain silent and be obedient to him.

_"Shut up. You're worthless. No one wants to listen to your utter garbage. They hate you. The only reason anyone would listen to you is so they could fuck you like all those men did."_

Byleth looked to the side, staring into nothingness before his hair was pulled to look at the man.

_"Only I care about you. I treat you good, no? Sleep with me tonight, in this bed."_

He said nothing in return, yet still silenced with a rough kiss.

_"Good, I'll make a wife out of you yet."_

He felt his skin crawl, his hair had grown long and stout, thick and clustered, and he was forced to wear a long gown of sorts that was unfit for his male physique. 

This was no life, no love.

The only thing he saw when he closed his eyes were the dead eyes of his mother, bulging and looking up at him with her slack jaw and puffed up diseased skin.

If there was a hint of truth in this man's evil, is the fact he would be untouchable. There will be no man alive who would love him knowing he let this happen to himself.

He felt another harsh kiss to his lips and he closed his eyes, ignoring the nagging in his head as he obediently opened his mouth for Indech's tongue to worm inside.

No matter what, he had to get out. 

Leave before he was branded like a cow in a pen. 

_"I will be with you until you die, and then some."_

Byleth swallowed the pill being pushed down his throat with the other's tongue, accepting the small respite of pleasure he could get as he closed his eyes and pretended he was anywhere but here as the man before him opened his legs easily and slid between them.

✸

More days passed, and as they did, the more he grew accustomed to the abuse and the idea his father would never be able to find him. One particular day stood out amongst the rest which bled together.

The day of his branding.

He remembered it well, the smell of searing iron and burning flesh being cooked with the rod. The ugly pulsating wound it left behind and the pain he felt for endless days from its aftermath. He remembered the pressure and the sizzling, the wooden gag he was made to bite down on but resisted to, entire body caking with sweat and exhaustion as the iron was pulled away from his lower right back, akin to the brand position of a prize cattle.

He remembered Indech's taunting eyes that were staring as if to say, _"I told you so. I told you I'd own you, imprison you and make you submit rightfully to your owner."_ Byleth could hardly keep his eyes open from the pain and withdrawal from the drugs. Indech said he wanted him sober enough to remember it, to carve it into not only his flesh but the grooves of his brain and the nuclei of his atoms.

That night was the only night Indech left him to sleep in that big soft bed he'd been tainted on so many times before than the cold and hard mattress of the cell, those cruel hands turned gentle when they rubbed cream onto his branding, never trailing below it or straying from the path.

It didn't need to be said that there was no love between them.

There would never be.

Not even a morsel of anything even minutely resembling it.

Only a facade.

✸

Byleth closed his eyes, and when he opened them he was back in the stone cell, his prison with only the escape of a window view that was still constricted with the thick steel bars. Much like the ones on his ankles and wrists. The door cracked open to reveal a slit of light that illuminated his pale skin and an outfit was thrown at him before his chains were unlocked and was left once more.

He slipped on the outfit numbly, his slender fingers gripping the zip at the back of the tight black shirt with a crescent chest window at the back that showed a peek of his branding. Next, he slipped on the pants and the simple black flats he was given. The door creaked open once more to reveal a familiar figure Byleth recognised as the boy who led him around once, he didn't know his name anymore than the rest of the people who interacted with him but he let the man with the long ash white hair braid his own in silence.

When done, he led Byleth out into the hallway, past the rest of the men and women in chains and plain gowns before slipping into a side room that the man knew to be a kitchen. He awaited outside, leg still sore from its poor treatment before the white-haired men came back out again, a tray in hand with drinks.

_"There are few drugs that can be given to those that which do not fear imprisonment nor poisonous leaves."_

Byleth looked to the wine glass that was shoved into his hand, the liquid seemed nothing out of the ordinary, yet the server gave him a serious look before heading off into the party room where Indech spoke before another man came and slipped something into the back of his pants, it was cool and sharp.

He slipped it out to examine it, a dagger. 

The prisoner hid it once more, finding a more isolated spot to coat the dagger's blade in the poison before he also joined in the main room, where Indech was up in the centre and talking to the sea of older men and perverts about his services confidently as if his victims were products instead of real flesh and bone.

Though he felt a thousand glares in his back, pointed right at his branding that peeked from beneath the black fabric he carried on walking confidently, before he gripped the handle tighter and leapt straight for the man— blade searing into his fervent skin over and over again until he pressed the blade's stained cranberry coloured edge to his Adam's apple wordlessly.

_"You can't do it."_

Byleth looked over his captor's face once more with a now angered expression.

_"I'll make you pay. If you're such a glutton for punishment, I'll make sure to treasure you accordingly."_

He withdrew his blade, pulling the man up by his short hair and instead bashed its handle's end into the back of his head.

The blue-haired man looked over his shoulder at the rest of the men in the room that stared at him, taken aback. He only got up off the unconscious body before scanning over the men, noticing some weren't as shocked as others.

In the sea of audience members stood a blond man with only a single eye uncovered, mouth in a crazed grin as he gave a wave of his hand and people began to fill the large room and a mass battle broke out.

Byleth backed into the body, feet kicking his side as Indech let out a moan of pain.

_"Why should I spare you, anyway? A punishment like torture is no use. And antidote would be a waste on you."_

He shuffled over to Indech's head and lifted a foot before bringing it down with a sickening crunch.

Again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And—

❅

The next time he awoke he wasn't in some cold concrete cage with chains and bonds on his ankles and wrists like he was many moons ago, he was home in a soft bed and under warm covers, warm ointment and creams smeared on his wounds and his mid section bandaged so the branding was hidden. He could only stare up at the ceiling with numbness before his door opened slowly, the visitor trying to be as quiet at possible before they took a seat next to the bed and a warm hand slid over his own limp one.

"Kid... I..",there was a gentle squeeze from his father's hand,"I'm sorry we didn't find you sooner. Your mother's body... It was sent to us in pieces every month they had you." Byleth jolted at the mention, eyes still tracing the boorish pattern of the ceiling that weren't really there, his brain just trying to find something to occupy itself,"...Why aren't you saying anything?" He didn't reply, eyes too busy in the make-believe of the self-eating swirls of the white paint.

They sat there for a long while before someone else came, a familiar half-blind man from the gathering, and a taller older man who seemed to be his father or relative of some sort.

"Jeralt." 

His father didn't turn to look at him, instead keeping his gaze firmly stuck to Byleth.

"Lambert, Dimitri."

The blond older man pulled up a chair to sit across from Jeralt on the other side of the bed, eyes carefully taking in Byleth's form.

"My son has something to ask of you. Please forgive his directness... his feelings may seem fickle but I assure they are anything but." 

He nodded to his son who soon after bowed down onto the floor, a dagger in his palms as an offering to Jeralt.

"May I have your permission to court your son?"

Jeralt looked to him, eyes cold and uncaring as he took in the low bow, less like a grovel and more like a display of respect. He glanced back to Byleth, who only languidly blinked before meeting his eye and turning the hand covered by Jeralt's own palm-side up and giving it a gentle squeeze. 

"Byleth... Are you sure?"

His son's gaze was unbreakable, until Jeralt looked away and back to Dimitri.

".. I know it is customary for you to present this dagger to the one you intend to marry, is it not? So why are you showing it to me? Byleth can make his own decisions, no matter how much they may worry me."

He squeezed Byleth's hand once more before nodding to Lambert, the two older men leaving the room, presumably standing outside with their guards.

Dimitri came to his side, putting his hand forth with a carefully crafted dagger. The blade was a darker blue, floral patterns made of silver on the handle with only a singe trace of wood.

"Will you give me permission to court you?"

Byleth looked to the dagger before his eyes flickered back to meet Dimitri's eye. His slender hand took the dagger with a nod, hand circled around the handle tightly.

The blond smiled gently, completely different to their first encounter, and Byleth felt a little tug at his heart which he shook off.

If anything else this marriage will keep him protected.

"... Prove to me until the third full moon.."

Dimitri's eye widened as the man spoke up, though his voice was bland and nothing special the fact that he spoke was a surprise. He watched as Byleth turned to his side with a groan, cradling the dagger close to his chest as he closed his eye, a sign he'd over stayed his welcome.

As he left the room, the only thing he could think about was the way Byleth looked so ethereal when he slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit 28/06/2020 changed some wording slightly to imply a big timeskip between the initial abuse and the current time. they dont start courting immediately after byleth has been taken home !!! sorry to imply they were, my fault ! ToT

**Author's Note:**

> a yakuza/mob au where byleth and dimitri come together to solve their issues and eventually find happiness in love [and therapy ofc.]


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